Friends are Quiet Angels
by my-fool-of-a-took
Summary: Just a little, Frodo-centric drabble, set after exiting the Mines of Moria


Friends are Quiet Angels 

**Summary: **Just a little, Frodo-centric drabble; inspired by a quote I fell in love with recently. One-shot

**Author's Note: **I stole borrowed this quote from my pal Xo0Phoenix0oX who had it as her msn name. I don't know where it came from, but it's just beautiful: _Friends are quiet angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly_. Of course it reminded me of Frodo. So here we are. Please feel free to r&r :)

I do not own Tolkien or any of the following characters or places.

Friends are Quiet Angels 

A cool breeze blew, gently rustling the soft leaves of towering trees, and rippling the serenely calm water of a small, clear creek at his side. The long grass swayed lazily, brushing at his feet as he walked. Two young birds sang quietly from their nest, as the stars began to shine out of the deep blue evening sky.

And still Frodo despaired.

He could not see the trees, the grass, the water, the birds. He saw nothing but the darkness of Moria, heard nothing but three faint words: _"Fly, you fools…" _How long had he known Gandalf? Countless years, long before he had come to live with Bilbo. He could still recall long nights in the sitting room, curled up at his uncle's side while the wizard immersed himself in a cloud of smoke, bringing grand, adventurous stories to life before the young hobbit's eyes. More than just companions on this journey: friends.

Gandalf had been at his side at one moment… and lost forever the next. Is that how this quest was fated to be? Friends close one moment, gone the next?

How long would it be before everyone else is driven away? Could he allow pain and suffering and death to be forced upon his remaining companions? Perhaps Gandalf's falling was a sign that there is no more hope for the Fellowship. That they should turn back before it is too late.

Frodo sighed, and felt tears well up in his eyes. There truly _was_ no hope without Gandalf. How could there be any?

If the great Istari could be taken… surely that meant that it would be only too easy to destroy the rest of his companions? Hot droplets began to fall, at the thought of Sam and his kin; in the clutches of evil; lying pale and lifeless on the unforgiving, rocky ground; bound and tormented in a tall black tower. Death. Mordor. No grass for miles, nor trees or running water. _Alone_, he would be alone.

_Alone._

With a quiet moan he stumbled, falling blindly to his knees; thrusting out his hands to catch himself before striking the ground. Fingers tightened about the soft grass as his body trembled, shook with hopeless, miserable sobs. He could not do this. What point was there in continuing? He wanted only to curl up on the ground, and hide away from everything.

Two gentle hands landed softly upon his shoulders, and he opened his eyes, staring ahead of him in some amazement. The path on which he knelt was peaceful and quiet. Grass lived here, and so did green trees, and singing birds.

He was drawn carefully to his feet, and slowly he met the concerned gazes of his young cousins. Both sported red, swollen eyes, and pale complexions, but there was hope still in their expressions, and more plainly, love.

"Frodo?" asked Pippin anxiously, sliding his shoulder beneath his cousin's arm in an attempt to support him. Merry said nothing, but gazed worriedly into his eyes, asking the silent question that they all knew the answer to. "It will be alright, Frodo." Said Pippin after a moment, venturing a small smile. Frodo stared at the gesture, captivated. Clearly Pippin was devastated by the loss of Gandalf, yet he was not despairing. He had already recognized the still-present company of his friends and family, and was willing to struggle on. He was prepared to do whatever necessary to help Frodo. He believed in Frodo. And the smile proved all of that, and more. "We will all be alright. I'm sure of it." He added softly, his apprehensive smile growing wider in his confidence. Merry's face echoed that of Pippin's, and he offered his spare hand to Frodo, offering to help him along.

Frodo gazed at the hand for a brief moment, before raising his gaze once more to meet that of both his cousins.

And he smiled.

The end


End file.
